


Together, We Can Fly

by Westra_Sydnah_Kom_Riften



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-02-11 11:49:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12934659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Westra_Sydnah_Kom_Riften/pseuds/Westra_Sydnah_Kom_Riften
Summary: Clarke needs a new start in life after the death of her father and finds it in the wilderness of the city of Polis in northern Saskatchewan. Living in the spare bedroom of her friends Raven and Octavia, Clarke realizes almost everything she needs for her emotional recovery is located in the nearby First Nations reservation, her friends' company, her art supplies, and the local bar and coffee shop she discovers in town. Life becomes infinitely more confusing for her when one day the new barista who serves her coffee also crops up as a new bartender at her evening haunt. She feels odd about her initial attraction towards the woman at first, but when she also shows up across the lake from Clarke's special spot, she finds she physically can't leave it alone anymore, because DAMN, seeing her swimming in the lake naked is absolutely too much.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I definitely don't have a storyline planned out beyond the first few chapters, but I'm hoping I can make things flow. Also, this is the only fiction (let alone fanfiction) I've ever written, so...sorry.

   It was all a dream. It had to be. She simply couldn’t believe what her eyes were seeing and hands were touching. Costia. Her lifeless body, draped in Lexa’s arms like a ragdoll, continued adding to the pool of blood they were slumped together in. A terrible dream. And then it became worse as Lexa reverently laid Costia down and left her behind as she tore across the courtyard towards the devil at full speed. The dream felt slightly shaken as physical pain ripped into first her shoulder, then her side, and finally her hand as she dove feet first at Satan himself while reaching towards his evil metal hand with her own. They both fell, but Lucifer lost his metal hand while Lexa deftly whipped her mother’s knife from within her boot and, in a strange moment of numb sobriety, let it find its home deep in the demon’s neck.

 

   What a vivid dream. She could almost hear the sobbing and screaming now, and the strangled gurgle of the twitching man beneath her, his blood flowing freely over the knife, her hand still grasped around it, and onto the pavement below. The dream-police were here now, and the dream-paramedics, all running frantically around her and towards her, yelling and shouting indiscernible worries. They really ought not be so afraid. After all, dreams that seem real are still simply dreams and not real at all. Right?

 

   The pain in her body was telling her otherwise, but she would hear none of it and calmly removed her knife and stood, stepping back from the dream-death her dream-self had caused. Dream-people were all around her now, speaking their gibberish and attempting to lead her away from the courtyard, but her dream-self knew where it belonged: with her beloved. 

 

   Pulling away with as much strength as she could muster (why was her body being so difficult?), she turned back to where Costia must surely be waiting for her to congratulate her on her swift removal of the demonized predator that had caused so much dream-death. But Costia had not moved from where she had been lain; her clothes dyed red with blood that shouldn’t have escaped her veins. Suddenly Lexa was by her side again, holding her head, gently attempting to coax her awake, but her eyes remained fixed in place.

 

   And then hands were on her, hands far too strong for as weak as Lexa’s own suddenly were. More gibberish words fell on her ringing ears, but Lexa had no attention for anyone but Costia, who was leaving her now, being rolled away on a cart faster than Lexa’s legs could move. The dream slowed even more when she tried to call out to her, to please come back and give her another chance, that she would get it right this time and save her. The world began to spin sickeningly around her as her vision tunneled out into total darkness save for the cart holding her beloved being rolled away across the shore…

 

   She woke to lights much brighter than she was expecting and a strange lack of feeling in her right shoulder and arm.

 

_    Where…? What’s- _

 

   It wasn’t a dream. It was real. The mad man with the gun. The wounds she had taken. The life she had taken. And the life that had been taken from her…It all flooded back in a painful rush, and she faintly heard an increasingly rapid beeping before blessed darkness took over again. 

 

   She slept and actually dreamt this time of demonized men with red eyes and far more appendages than natural, each brandishing a piece of cold, hard metal and firing hundreds of bullets into –  _ No _ – into a small figure, blood flowing out in streams from –  _ NO!  _ – too many lethal wounds in her dear girl, her dear –  _ COSTIA, I’M SORRY! I TRIED, I’M SO SORRY! COSTIA! _

 

   She was suddenly jolted from the temporary hell back into the permanent one, her unconscious mumbling turning into a strangled shout as she simultaneously felt several firm hands grasp onto her and her no longer pleasantly numb right side scream out its own agony. She immediately shut her mouth and eyes as tightly as possible and tried her best to stop the involuntary trembling of her body. Voices all around were shushing her with calming words and speaking in hushed tones to each other, but the ringing in her ears wouldn’t let up, so she heard only the noise of it all. The horrible noise of life. She made a valiant attempt to bring her hands up to her ears to block it all out, but it was met with searing pain and strong hands holding her down, and she soon gave in. But it was all too much for her again, and her vision behind her eyelids swam in a kaleidoscope of colors before she fell back into the deep. 

 

   Her dreams this time took her through the actual events but in horrendously slow motion, and her body felt like it was made of lead as she attempted to wade through invisible molasses. She watched Costia die again, powerless to help her, but this time she caught a glimpse of her eyes before death came. They weren’t angry at having been torn from life in her prime; they weren’t disappointed that her hero hadn’t made it to her in time; they weren’t even shocked that such evil could exist in the world; they were sad. Her eyes were full of sadness, not for herself, but for her other half, her Lexa, for having to be alone again.

 

   This time she awoke calmed and unaware of the recently dried tracks of tears down both sides of her face. She opened her eyes and stared. Stared at nothing. Stared at the world she had been left with. Stared at what was left of her heart. And it was then that she became the commander, that moment that she turned into the leader her people would need her to be when she returned, because she knew she must return. There was nothing for her here, nothing of the life she had grown to take for granted in all its joy and light. But she still had Anya, and Anya was pregnant, so she would at least have the two of them, and that was assuming Indra wouldn’t take her back. It was worth a try. It would dishonorable and pathetically weak to give up on life now. No, she would honor Costia’s memory with living, she would mourn her with working, she would love her with abstinence. She would live, for the dead are gone, and the living are hungry. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Switching to Clarke's POV for the time being.

   “You know you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you want, right? Seriously. Take up fucking residence in our livingroom – that couch is as good as yours.”

 

   Clarke Griffin smiled faintly into her phone. It was a pleasant rarity for Raven to be so kindheartedly warm and devoid of sarcasm.

 

   “Thanks, Raven, it means a lot – and thank Octavia for me, too. I don’t know how long I’ll stay, but a couple weeks would be amazing.”

 

   “You’ve got it, girl,” and she sounded super fucking dickish as she added, “Just as long as you leave the asshole back in LA – we are  _ not _ taking him in.”

 

   Clarke actually chuckled at that. “Absolutely nothing to fear there – I’ll be keeping as much distance between myself and Finn as possible for the foreseeable future.”

 

   “Good, ‘cause I’d definitely try to kill him, and Octavia actually  _ would _ kill him, and I don’t feel that either of us are mentally or psychologically prepared to go to prison.”

 

   Smiling again, Clarke said, “I’m sure you’d be smart enough to make it happen without getting caught – isn’t that within your skillset as an engineer? Or scientist, or whatever it is that you do?”

 

   That, of course, was the wrong thing to say to Raven Reyes, and she immediately regretted her slip up as Raven launched into defending and explaining her career choice. It was another twenty minutes before Clarke was able to get more than a handful of words in, weary as she was from grief and lack of fitful sleep. Eventually, the conversation got back to Clarke’s travel plans, though, and they agreed to meet at the international airport in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. From there they would drive back to the small city of Polis, in which Raven and Octavia were living. 

 

   Clarke needed this. She didn’t know what she would do if she stayed in LA. Probably something stupid like forgive Finn and fall back into the old, comfortable rut of their relationship. But it had been newly poisoned with Clarke’s father’s death, and she felt a physical revulsion thinking of him now. No, she had seen the last of him this time; there was no way she’d lower herself back into the hole she’d dug and heaved herself into willingly before. Nope, this time she would be hundreds of miles away, in a different country, and would have her two best friends to back her up and support her with the love and strength she needed so desperately.

 

   Just seventy-nine days earlier, less than a week before she was set to graduate with honors from UCLA’s pre-med program, her mother had called with an uncharacteristically monotone voice and told her that her father had been involved in a hit-and-run and died on the scene. Clarke hadn’t taken it well. She had had a week’s worth of partying in mind to celebrate what was going to be one of the proudest moments of her adult life, but instead of walking across the stage that she had been dreaming of for four years, she’d spent the week in bed, not answering her phone, the door, or her stomach’s insistent ravings. The only reason she had survived at all was thanks to Raven and Octavia breaking into her apartment and force-feeding her in her near comatose state. Apparently Finn had attempted to get in as well but gave up after she didn’t answer his first five calls or seven texts. Figured. He wasn’t known for his patience. 

 

   Clarke’s mother, Abbie, took it poorly as well, but in the opposite way: she became consumed with her work at the hospital, taking on extra shifts, and apologizing to Clarke for being too busy to see her. Clarke felt betrayed by her, angry at Finn all over again, and more devastatingly alone than she’d ever felt in her life. Now that she was finished with school for the moment, there was absolutely nothing holding her back, and she’d be damned if she didn’t take advantage of it right fucking now and run away from the shitstorm of pain that her life had devolved into.

 

   Sitting in the airport, waiting to board her flight across the border, she was scrolling with glassy eyes through old photos her dad on her phone when it suddenly began to ring causing her to jump. Her mother. She couldn’t deal with her, not now, maybe not for a long time. She let it ring and decided to stretch her legs a bit and walked aimlessly through the throngs of people towards where she had briefly seen an art exhibit on her way to the gate.

 

   Art had always been her escape. She was never very good at expressing herself with words, but locking herself in her room with Florence and the Machine blaring through her headphones and her charcoals blackening her hands (and somehow always her face as well) would cause a magic that she didn’t understand to take place. Suddenly the sketchpad would turn from smears of grey and black to pictures of exactly what she was feeling inside – joy, love, happy bliss, pride, anger, fear, longing, loneliness, helplessness. Her father thought her talent was the most amazing thing in all of creation, and both their home and his office was filled with drawings, sketches, and paintings by Clarke spanning her life from ages six to twenty-two. She often did it just for his pleasure, to see the pride and love light up his eyes as he exclaimed over it and ruffled her messy blonde mane before scooping her up in a tickle-filled hug. 

 

   The art she was now gazing at was far too colorful and abstract for her to comprehend in her current state of mind. As her phone began to ring again, she promptly hit “Ignore” and walked slowly back her gate focusing on the floor tiles and not the mixture of emotions threatening to burst forth behind her eyes. Soon she could start again, and soon her American phone would no longer accept any calls at all. Soon. 

 

~

 

   The flight was long, longer than she had mentally prepared for, but was rewarding in a way she hadn’t expected: they flew over the Rocky Mountains in all their evening majesty. The sharp, jutting edges of the rock, together with the stark white of the snow (which she had never before seen in person) and the peach and lavender hues of the sunset pulled at Clarke’s artistic needs which she had been neglecting for too long. She made up her mind then to give in to her fears once she had settled into her new (albeit temporary) life, and pick up her paints and pencils again. Surely one of the best ways to combat the pain of death was with the beauty of life. And that was something she could do: take a meaningless stretch of blankness and transform it into a trophy celebrating life’s immense capacity for beauty.

 

   Somehow, flying over a part of world that was so untouched by the dull grey of human metal and all that entailed caused Clarke to find a sense of calm and tranquility that she hadn’t anticipated. She needed to get out into nature. She needed to get away from cities, noise, people and death. She needed to get to that place inside of her that could forgive, accept and move on, and she now suspected that place could only be reached through meditative art in the wilderness of Canada. Or whatever wilderness Polis had to offer. Maybe she would have to buy some backpacking gear and head out on her own for a few days. Whatever she needed to do, she would do it - she needed to. 

 

   A few hours later, she had landed and gone through customs and was being welcomed by two brunettes who were both smiling and waving at her like idiots, and holding up a sign that read “Clare Griffin.” Clarke couldn’t contain her laughter, and really, she didn’t even want to. These were her dear friends who knew her inside and out; they cared for her and would give her all the love and space she needed. And they still wouldn’t let her live down the time she had let a boy mistakenly call her “Clare” for months in middle school because she’d had a crush on him and couldn’t bring herself to correct him.

 

   “About time, Griffin, we’ve been waiting for hours!” Octavia gave her a playful punch in the arm with a mock stern countenance. 

 

   “Yeah, I thought my arms were gonna fall off from holding up your namecard, but we couldn’t leave it behind ‘cause we kept forgetting your name,” Raven said as she folded the sign up into a more manageable size.

 

   “Well, I’m glad you didn’t seem to forget my face.” Clarke let go of her rolling suitcase but paused before dropping her bag to look the smiling girls in the eyes. “Thank you both,” she said seriously. “Thanks so much. I really don’t know what I would’ve done.” She then dropped the bag and pulled them both into a weak but sincere hug that was more powerfully reciprocated by the other girls. 

 

   “You’re really cramping my style, here,” Raven awkwardly hobbled on her good leg to give Clarke a firm squeeze.

 

   “Oh, sorry Ray,” Clarke sniffed a bit as she withdrew, carefully helping Raven regain her balance. Her composure nearly returned, Clarke picked up her bags again, “Well, where is this new, gloriously lavish house I’ve been hearing about for the last six months? I can’t wait to see how much of a let down it’s going to be.”

 

   Octavia’s jaw dropped dramatically. “Let down?? Oh Clarke, you’re gonna shit your pants when you see it - we didn’t build it up to half its true glory over the phone,” which, though Octavia looked truthful in her giddy words, Clarke couldn’t possibly believe. They had made it sound like Raven’s company had given them a small mansion in the woods, far too luxurious for a new hire no matter how highly recommended she had come.

 

   “Oh, don’t believe us now, that’d be way too trusting of you,” Raven said with an eyeroll. “Grab all your shit and let’s get outta here, all this foreign air coming off of you is actually starting to cramp up my leg.”

 

   “‘Foreign air’?” Clarke laughed at her, “What, are you Canadian now? Just like that? Forsaking all things American for a nice job and a small mansion?”

 

   “Babe, Raven would forsake all things American for a nice afternoon if got her away from her parents.” Octavia joked, but Clarke knew it to be at least half true, so she went along with them and spent the walk through the airport and ride on the shuttlebus out to the car laughing and teasing each other peacefully. It was a pleasant reprieve from the darkness her mind had been wrapped in throughout the last few days.

 

~

 

   Clarke had never been so glad to have her phone with her - she was  now half-heartedly listening to her friends as they argued back and forth over what they should do for Clarke’s first week in Polis. Instead, she was snapping pictures of the scenery they were passing through, mentally taking it all in and starting sketches and paintings that she would get to as soon as physically possible. 

 

   There was so much green. Having grown up in Southern California and spent the last four years living in the heart of Los Angeles, the lack of buildings or people of any sort made her slightly uneasy on the one hand, but on the other...both energized and peaceful. It was an odd mixture of feelings; the rolling hills of tall, waving grasses felt like a stranger that she had somehow been waiting to meet her whole life. And when they reached a sudden patch of dense woods, she knew she would find solace within its safe canopy of comforting green and brown hues. In her already emotionally fragile state, she nearly shed a tear when they came out on the other side to the wheat fields beyond. 

 

   “Hey, your house is around woods, isn’t it?” She asked no in particular, not really caring if she had interrupted anything.

 

   Raven turned in her seat to look back at her with an incredulous frown. “Did we not say it was IN the woods?” She turned to Octavia. “Did we not say that?”

 

   “We did say that, Griffin. Several times. You’re slipping.” Octavia cocked her eyebrows at Clarke in the rearview mirror as Raven turned back around in her seat to give her a hard stare.

 

   “This place is so deep in the woods that it’s right next to an Indian reserva-”

 

   “First Nations.” Octavia interjected.

 

   “Right, Canadians are so weird. It’s right next to a First Nations reservation. Like, seriously less than a mile from it.”

 

   Clarke squinted at this new information. “Does that mean we’re not allowed in it? Like, we can walk only so far before the signs tell us to keep out?”

 

   “Basically, but I don’t think they’re very strict about the edges.” Raven then took out her phone apparently bored of the conversation topic.

 

   “If you want to take some nature walks there’s a lake within walking distance that’s half in and half out of the res. Apparently you can see it from our back deck when the trees lose their leaves.” Octavia sounded strangely stiff as she said this, keeping her eyes fixed dead on the road in front of her. “Supposed to have a hell of a sunset show, too.”

 

   At this, Raven glanced sideways at her companion with a cocked brow, but said nothing. Instead Clarke, finally putting away her phone as its battery neared it’s end, scooted up closer to the front of the car between her friends. “Oh yeah? Have you seen any yet, or do you have to wait until the trees turn skeletal?”

 

   “It’ll be better come November.” At that, Raven turned fully in her seat, now facing Octavia.

 

   “You HAVE been going down there without me - what the fuck, O? I thought we agreed going alone wasn’t safe when he’s a total stranger and complete creeper?”

 

   “What? Who are you talking about? What’s going on?” Clarke spoke in near unison with Octavia’s loudly denying groans.

 

   “He’s not a stranger and he’s not dangerous, he just likes to sketch the wildlife and enjoy nature - Clarke would probably get along with him.”

 

   “Octavia Blake, have you been talking with him?” Raven sounded slightly upset, but the lighthearted amusement at Octavia’s obvious embarrassment came through nonetheless. “When do you even have time for that?”

 

   Taking mock offense at being ignored, Clarke unbuckled completely and moved as far forward as she could get between the two of them. “Hey! Who is this guy? I need to know what’s going on in this household so I can properly participate in conversations - O, who are you talking about? Some random guy in the woods near your house?”

 

   “No! He’s a member of the tribe in the reservation there, and he’s not creepy - he has more right to be there than we do!”

 

   Raven put up her hands. “Whoa, whoa, chill girl. You know we’d be more likely to believe you if you let us meet him. Why don’t you bring him around for dinner sometime, after your evening of banging -” Octavia’s cheeks flushed rosy “- by the lake while the real breadwinner is out spending her day with grouchy and pompous old men?”

 

   “Banging?” Clarke was interested now. “Are you sleeping with this stranger?”

 

   Still pink-cheeked, Octavia’s voice lowered a bit. “I told you: he’s not a stranger. His name’s Linkon and he’s a part of the Woods Clan of the Trikru. These are basically is woods, not ours.”

 

   “So you’re banging him. Is he good?”

 

   “Raven! Just shut up about it, alright?” Though she sounded exasperated, Clarke was used to their incessant bantering and felt right at home in the midst of it.

 

   “Naw, I wanna get as much enjoyment out of this as possible - you should definitely bring him around.” Raven settled back into her seat with a smirk on her face as she went back to scrolling through her phone as Octavia gave a sharp ‘hmph’ through her nose and turned up the radio.

 

   Clarke then settled back into her own seat, re-buckling herself, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Smiling at the bliss of being around her real friends again, she slowly drifted off to sleep while the early-morning sun warmed her tired face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the few (eight?) of you who were reading this, I'm so sorry for not having updated throughout the holiday season. Now that school's started back up I actually have even less free time, but I'm scheduling it out better so I'll probably be writing more.  
>  Also, sorry that this is a boring and ridiculously short chapter, but the next chapter will have mostly Lexa and Anya and should be considerably longer =)

   The house was more amazing than Clarke could’ve ever imagined. Situated on the side of a hill in the forest, the house had a driveway that was nearly half a mile long and meandered around bends and over a stream before finally finding a partial garage underneath a wide second-story deck that was attached to the main floor. The basement was basically a fancy bachelor pad. The kitchenette and bar were openly connected to a living area with an L-shaped couch and an impressive entertainment center, all separated from the wilderness outside by very large, glass sliding doors. A hallway branched off at the end of the room and led to the guest room Clarke would be staying in as well as the laundry room and a full bathroom.

 

   Upstairs was flooded with the mid-afternoon sun coming in from wide windows at nearly every opportunity given to the architects by the walls. A beautifully ornate dining table was just outside the partially open kitchen that boasted fantastic windows of it’s own, and on the opposite end of the floor was a hallway that looked to lead to a sunroom or atrium of sorts. Right before the hallway was a staircase leading up to a balconied third story where Clarke assumed Raven and Octavia’s rooms to be, but the main attraction of the house was on the main floor. To the west end of the room, past the dining area on one side and a foyer-like area on the other, there was a wall of glass with two barely discernible sliding doors that led out to the most beautiful scene Clarke had witnessed all day. 

 

   The leaves in the trees had already started turning their fall colours and had thinned out just enough for Clarke to catch a tiny glimpse of dark blue water beyond them. The deck was  huge, wrapping around the perimeter of the house with a railing that doubled as a bench. Lanterns were interspaced along the railing, and a built-in fire pit sat in the corner with several wooden chairs and a side table around it. A large glass table sat at the other end with its own benches - enough to seat at least twelve, Clarke was sure. Curving around the other side of the house where the deck continued, several reclining beach chairs sat with an actual bar behind them. And though there were large trees providing a natural, if somewhat spotty, canopy overhead, there also seemed to be the makings of a retractable awning around the entire area. Clarke was awestruck, and all she could think of was what it must look like in the evening, when the lights are all alight and glowing warmly, a fire burning bright and calm. 

 

   Her left hand began to tremble ever so slightly. She needed art supplies. Now. This was the environment she craved. She would grab her sketchpad and walk the path Octavia had mentioned down to the lake and stay there the rest of the day if she had to. She turned back to her friends and gave them a pitiful smile with sad eyes. “Guys, I think I need some me time.”

 

   Both girls simultaneously rolled their eyes, and Octavia let go of Clarke’s luggage she’d been hauling around and handed her the smaller bag. “Just take it,” she said, then threw her hands in the air as she turned around and walked back inside.

 

   Raven had crossed her arms and now gave Clarke a sympathetic look. “I guess you have had a rough couple of weeks.” Clarke made a weak laugh, looking down at a leaf by her feet. “Ok, months.” Then she added more quietly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral. You know I would’ve if I could.”

 

   “No, I know. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” Clarke had really needed a friend at the time, and not having Raven or Octavia at the funeral had made it a living hell, but she knew it couldn’t have been helped, and she knew they had tried. She knew they loved her. “I’m just grateful I’ve got you both now. I swear, I’ll try not to be a burden - leave all the housework to me.” At that, Raven’s brows went up. “Seriously. I’ll be your housemaid for as long as I’m here.”

 

   Raven looked exceptionally pleased now and waggled her eyebrows a bit. “Damn, Clarke, you know I can’t resist that offer. Octavia’s shit at remembering to clean up after her nasty-ass self, and laundry is my absolute least-favorite thing to do on Earth. Speaking of, I’ve actually got a load that could go in now,” she turned a bit, gesturing towards the house with her thumbs, “if you wanna, you know, get on that.”

 

   Knowing Raven’s sarcasm like the back of her hand, Clarke just laughed as she walked past her to the door giving her a gentle shove on her way. “Asshole.” 

 

   “Hey, you offered, Griffin.”

 

~

 

   This had to be the most beautiful place on Earth. Granted, the amount of traveling Clarke had done was next to nothing, so for all she knew, the rest of the world could look like this, and she’d just been living in an overpopulated trash heap her entire life. Not that California wasn’t beautiful in its own way, but even the redwood forests had nothing on northern Saskatchewan. The trees were dense on either side of the trail but not so dense that she wasn’t able to lay eyes on several wild animals along the way. The early evening birdsong that followed her was nearly enough to make her stop and sit to take it all in before she even reached her destination. But oh, was she glad she kept going.

 

   The sun was beginning to lower itself behind the hills by the time Clarke reached the lake, so the entire scene was tinted a deceptively warm burnt orange. It was chilly out for sure, but the walk had warmed her enough that she didn’t feel the need to wrap herself in the blanket she’d brought along just yet. Instead she just stood near the edge of the water and stared. Far across the lake, she could see a few deer quenching their thirst; a heron waded around in the shallows not far off searching for its dinner; an owl hooted calmly nearby; a small group of geese floated peacefully near the center of the water. Clarke nearly jumped out of her skin as a sudden ruckus erupted somewhere behind her as two squirrels chased each other around, chattering loudly.

 

   She didn’t know how long she’d stood there, staring at everything and nothing, taking it all in, but when she realized the temperature had dropped significantly, she quickly set up the little folding chair she’d brought with her and settled in it with the blanket around her shoulders. Though the light was getting very dim by now, she took out her sketchpad and began doing as many quick sketches as she could, attempting to capture the entirety of the lake in its glory all around her. It felt like she was breathing freely again for the first time in months - years, maybe. 

 

   As the light finally did fade away and her eyes were beginning to hurt from the strain, she decided to pack it up and head back to the house. She was going to really enjoy her rest tonight. After grabbing everything together, she checked her phone for the time and was temporarily blinded by its light. Still blinking away the afterimage of her phone’s background, she couldn’t really be certain, but she thought she saw the orange-red light of a small fire on the far side of the lake. But by now, her exhaustion from the day’s travels was really starting to kick in, so she ignored it and started her way back up the trail to bed and blessed sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt like writing today! That's what rain does to me. However, I'm just uploading this without proofreading it, so cut me some slack for grammatical errors or dumb wording - at least it's longer, right?

   “Are you even listening to me?”

 

   Lexa snapped her eyes back up to her sister. Right, Anya had been talking. What was she saying? “Sorry, what?” 

 

   Anya huffed and rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms across her chest in exasperation. “Really, Lex? I know your life is stressful and shit, but can’t you even spare an hour to devote to your  _ only _ sister? Even Trina pays more attention to me than you are.”

 

   A twinge of guilt in her stomach, Lexa sat up straighter and looked Anya in the eye. “I’m truly sorry, Anya; could you start from the beginning again, something about work?”

 

   Rolling her eyes once more, Anya went back to what she had been saying. The newest engineer at the plant had just been moved onto Anya’s floor and was driving her crazy with non-stop chatter interspersed with bits of genius. “It’s impossible to have a conversation with her, she’s so into herself - it’s like she thinks she’s Earth’s only chance at survival or something.”

 

   “She sounds insufferable.” Lexa was listening, but only just, her thoughts being elsewhere - on duties that needed tending to: her meeting with Indra and the other clan leaders this afternoon, the  _ youngons _ she would be testing in the evening, the naming ceremony she must attend at sundown, the following feast which she must also preside over for at least the formalities due the child, her much-needed respite from the world in the form of her late-night run to the lake. But most of all, she couldn’t get her mind off the fact that she still hadn’t hired a new barista or bartender to take Artigas’ place, who had decided to recklessly take after his  _ Heda _ and travel to the States on his own for the sake of some “adventure.” He was the only employee she had who could work on Fridays, which may have meant little for the cafe but was the bar’s busiest night of the week. The more she had been thinking on it, the more she was realizing that she may very well have to consider hiring outside of the Trikru, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it definitely made her uncomfortable. She knew her people and had always hired from within, not having to worry about references or background checks. This would be yet another small headache to add to the ever-growing list. But Anya was still talking.

 

   “Oh, I can handle her - I’m currently working on whittling her down to her actual size so her head fits the rest of her body.” There was an interesting glint in her eyes as she spoke that Lexa couldn’t quite place, but also wasn’t interested enough to pursue. 

 

   Just as Lexa was taking a breath to respond with a less-than-interested question into what exactly Anya’s last comment had meant, there was a loud crash a few tables away as a heavily laden waiter accidentally let one of the tower of dishes he was carrying smash on the floor. The noise immediately startled young Trina, who had been fast asleep in her stroller next to Anya, and she began to wail a groggy little sob at the world that had disturbed her slumber.

 

   “Agh, shit.” Anya turned and began to coo soft sounds at her while moving the stroller rhythmically back and forth. After a minute or two of poor convincing, Anya gave Lexa an exasperated look and sighed. “I’m really sorry Lex, but I’m gonna have to take her home - I just barely got her to sleep on the way here. She’s gonna be grumpy and whiny the rest of the day if she doesn’t sleep more now.”

 

   Lexa smiled sadly at the two of them. “Of course - you should both get some rest. But first -” Lexa rose and stepped around the table to her now quietly sobbing niece and pulled her up and out of the stroller. It was like magic: Trina’s crying stopped immediately as her aunt held her tightly and swayed back and forth.

 

   Anya laughed softly and shook her head in disbelief. “I’ll never understand the link between an aunty and her niece, will I?” She gave her a subtle wink and Lexa rolled her eyes before gingerly handing the infant back to her mother.

 

   “Still only interested in girls, if that’s what you’re asking.” That got another soft laugh from her sister and Lexa paused to take in the sight before her somberly for a moment. 

 

   Anya had lost nearly as much as Lexa. Firstly, their mother. The previous Commander, or  _ Heda _ , had died when the two of them were still very young leaving their very Canadian and very not Trikru birth father to look after them for a short time. They had loved spending time with him, but after a few months in the tiny, dingy apartment their small family had shared ever since their mother had run from her responsibilities to elope with the man she loved, the Trikru elders had forcibly intervened. According to Trikru law, Lexa’s mother had forfeited her position, but not that of her children, and Anya was obligated to be raised as a future  _ Heda _ . Lexa was to be raised in the same way of course, but she was not firstborn and would therefore most likely never see power. And so the two of them had been taken away from their father, being allowed to visit with him only on weekends and certain holidays. 

 

   They then grew up fairly happily, living in what the considered the best of both worlds. They were completely oblivious to the depression their father had fallen into until it pushed him over the edge. Anya had been the one to find him, and had never been the same carefree little girl since, having been old enough to understand exactly what had happened. It sowed a seed of bitterness in Anya towards the elders of the Trikru and she began - albeit, secretly - to sneak away from Polis and see what life was like in the big city. She was so good at escaping unnoticed that the only person who ever knew about her adventurous exploits was Lexa, who, when she reached sixteen, demanded to be taught to creep unseen with her sister or she would expose the entire facade. Of course Lexa would never do such a thing to the only blood relation she possessed, and they both knew it, but Anya had appreciated the spark of fire in her eyes. 

 

   The two of them became masters of the darkness, stealthing out to the city every week, strengthening their bonds as sisters while dealing with their own angsty issues. This continued through Lexa’s high school years, but by the time of her graduation Anya had developed a serious relationship with a boy from Saskatoon and Lexa began to feel the need to get out on her own - to  _ do _ something with her life, something other than sit around in her sister’s shadow waiting around to pursue a dead-end career in teaching  _ youngons _ . Anya was set to become  _ Heda _ when she turned twenty-one, which was fast approaching, but she had begun to show more blatant signs of rebellion recently and all eyes were on her and her broody attitude. This, oddly enough, was Lexa’s ticket of freedom, as the elders were too busy with Anya to pay more attention to Lexa’s plans and soft requests.

 

   And so Lexa left - heading to an American university and leaving Anya behind in a spiraling situation that she insisted she had under control. Anya had helped Lexa with all her secret applications and supported her completely, but Lexa knew she wished for the same such freedom. Instead she was stuck in a whirlpool of responsibilities she had never asked for, had never wanted. 

 

   By the time the elders had fully realized what they had allowed Lexa to do, it was too late to call her back, but they made it clear that she was on her own. Of course, Lexa would have it no other way, and Anya’s demeanor for the next several days was one of haughty pride. That had lasted long, however, as the ceremony that would name Anya as the next  _ Heda _ finally arrived and she did the unthinkable. She attended the ceremony, the Conclave, and instead of kneeling before Titus, who was to officiate, she turned to the assembly and gave a loudly passionate speech about how they had ruined her mother and father’s lives and that she would never give them such a chance with her. 

 

   Although there were many in attendance who sympathized emphatically about the ancient Trikru customs that had pulled apart Anya and Lexa’s lives, the law was clear as to what was to happen when Anya spoke the traditional words of succession, and she was banished from Polis and stripped of her surname. Anya and Lexa had skyped that night, Lexa from her dormitory and Anya from her boyfriend’s apartment; though the conversation had started out haughty and proud from Anya’s side, it ended with tears and sorrow from both. Though they were still technically blood-related, the Trikru would no longer recognize Anya as Lexa’s sister. They didn’t care, of course, but...they also cared very deeply.

 

   Following Anya’s outburst, the elders attempted to pull Lexa back as the rightful heir and only true  _ Heda _ , but Lexa would have none of it, citing her need to finish university and obtain her degree first, but secretly despising them in what they’d done to her family. 

 

   Strangely, Anya felt the need to stay near Polis, even when her relationships continued to sour and leave her reeling. However, one of her boyfriends had paid her way through a specified two-year scientific internship at the nearby nuclear plant, and her employers had been so impressed with her ability and natural talent that she was given a position before her internship was even complete. She progressed through the ranks more swiftly than any had before her until, by the time Lexa was graduating from uni, she was the head of her department. That was about the time she met Anton, who became the most sturdy pillar of her life as Lexa was away. 

 

   Everything in Anya’s life had finally seemed to be going along smoothly - both she and her sister were in happy relationships, her job was paying her well, the elders had decided to simply ignore her calmly instead of passive aggressively lashing out. And then the bombs began to fall. She had a slip-up with Anton and became pregnant, which should have been yet another happiness, but instead caused a sleeping beast to be awoken within him. He raged at her idiocy for letting it happen, calmed down a bit and attempted to convince her to have it aborted, then turned back into a monster when she refused and stormed out of her apartment and out of her life. She never saw him again. 

 

   Thus followed the hardest year of Anya’s life - dealing with work, picking up the pieces of a destroyed relationship she had thought was going to be long-term, going through a pregnancy by herself which brought into sharp relief her lack of parents or siblings. And then Lexa’s life had fallen apart with violence and clinical shock and depression, which turned out to be the key that opened the door back to fulfillment in Anya’s life. Her baby sister came home to her; of course, she was a broken shell of who she used to be, but that only meant that they were perfectly suited to help each other. They became each other’s lifelines, and when Trina was born, it was as if there was some semblance of family in their lives again - there was a reason to live. 

 

   And so they lived. Lexa had returned home to a welcome she had not desired and had had responsibilities thrust upon her almost immediately, and Anya had supported her unfailingly even as she was adapting to life as a single mother. She took it upon herself to be Lexa’s mentor, preparing her for her conclave while comforting her through her loss and recovery. Lexa wouldn’t have survived any of it without her help.

 

   “Lexa? You okay?” She was jolted back to the present and caught the two most precious pairs of eyes in her life staring her down in the most adorable mixture of confusion and hilarity. 

 

   Lexa blinked, then shook her head as she looked down and smiled. “Yeah, sorry, just lost in my thoughts again.”

 

   “Well come back to Earth for a minute and kiss your sister and niece before they leave.” Lexa laughed softly at that and came forward to embrace her family, kissing them both before whispering her love to them and taking her leave to head back upstairs to finish up some paperwork before the harder part of her day began.  


End file.
